


Whisky Kisses on Breathless Lips

by findmethestars (Atunenamedclara)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bartender AU, F/F, How did s6 even end, I don't know let's make it up, Memory Loss, Post S6, Post canon, bartender regina, just a bit of it, new york fic, who cares about canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atunenamedclara/pseuds/findmethestars
Summary: 2017: Emma Swan leaves Storybrooke as a woman with a ring on her finger and a too bright smile on her face. This is her happy ending. Or so she tells herself. Regina Mills remains behind with a hole in her heart and a too bright smile on her face. She has everything she needs. Or so she tells herself.2019: Emma Swan walks into a bar one cold evening in September, looking for a way to numb her heart and her mind. Regina Mills is behind the bar, a glimmer in her eye and a smile on her face, but underneath she is less than complete.The only thing is, they've never met before in their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this idea straight after the clips shown at SDCC and the rumour that Regina is a bartender in S7. I tweeted about an idea for an AU where Emma walks into the bar and they fall in love all over again and then...well then this happened.
> 
> I'll update as regularly as I can, life got really busy for a bit but it's slowed down until at least September so I'll try my best for weekly uploads? We'll see.
> 
> Warnings:  
> \- Hook isn't in it but he's a big part of it and the reason Emma is like she is. He was awful we don't like him. Gross.  
> \- I haven't seen 6B I have no idea how it ended, what I do know of it is whatever I picked up on twitter. So bear with.  
> -Regina is still Regina. she might be a bartender now but she's still the badass mayor at heart.

**September 5th 2019  
New York City**

Rain hammered against the sidewalk as she walked with her head down, not slowing down or stopping as she pushed through crowds of commuters returning home for the evening. The lights of the city reflected back at her from the puddles forming on the ground, creating shifting patterns against the patent leather of her boots.

She made a right and slowed her pace as she neared the doorway she was aiming for. A neon sign flickered above her, the rain playing havoc with its circuiting. But despite the fading colours and peeling paint of the storefront she knew that she had found what she was looking for.

She nodded once to the security guard standing under a limp umbrella, before ducking through the low doorway.

The bar was mostly empty, the evening still too early for the rush of customers it would be receiving later. Booths were dotted around the edge of the room, mostly empty although some held young couples, single people heading in for a drink after work, and in one corner, a group of girls celebrating someone’s birthday.

The lighting was low and pleasant, softly illuminating the dark wood of the tables and the polished floor underneath her.

She headed straight for the bar, not stopping to remove her coat.

“What can I get you?” A voice sounded near her ear, talking just loud enough to be heard over the jazz playing across the room.

“Oh, um, whisky, neat. Cheapest you have”

“Coming right up.”

  
Her eyes wandered across the room as she waited, fingers tracing a gentle pattern in the worn wood of the bar. Whilst the soft jazz and the dim lights weren’t quite enough to allow her to turn off her mind like she wanted to, it was a start. She would let the alcohol do the rest for her.

The bartender placed the glass next to her and nodded.  
“Just let me know when you want another”

Huh. That obviously desperate was she.  
“I will do. Thanks”

She picked up the glass and took a sip, grimacing as the alcohol burned on the way down.  
_That’s what you get for buying cheap_ she thought to herself.

She looked up from her glass eventually, realising that she was starting to overheat with a thick wool coat on inside the heated bar. She shrugged it off, pulling her long hair out from the collar as she did so.

She folded the coat neatly on her lap before running her hands through her hair uncomfortably. She worried that the long blonde locks were going to draw attention when all she wanted to do was blend in and be invisible, just for a bit. Maybe tonight she could be just another mindless face in the crowd.

She looked unobtrusive enough, her grey sweater and dark wash jeans not standing out amongst the thin crowd, but still she shifted uncomfortably, feeling like all the spotlights in the room were focussing in on her face.  
Emma Swan had never been particularly good at dealing with attention, and tonight was no exception.  
_This was a mistake_ the voice at the back of her mind chanted. _I shouldn’t have come here._

But drinking alone had lost its appeal over the past few months, and an empty apartment with nothing but leftover takeout for company sounded infinitely worse than drinking cheap whisky alone in a bar.

 

The bartender looked up and flashed her a small smile before returning to the tray of shots she was pouring. Emma didn’t return the glance.

She got lost in her thoughts again, letting her mind drift from subject to subject, not focusing on any one thing. The alcohol dulled the sharp edges of the things she didn’t want to think about, razor sharp points softening into gentle scratches which could, for now, be ignored.

A stool scraped back besides her as a man sat down, too close to her personal space. She shrunk into herself, willing him to disappear again.

“I’ll take a gin and tonic please” he nodded to the bartender, who smiled stiffly at him, noting the way his chair was too close to the blonde beside him, and how the blonde had shifted imperceptibly.

The man turned to her and stuck his hand out.  
“Name’s Tom” he said. His large hand blurred at the edge of her vision.

_Too close. Too close. Too close._

“Emma” she muttered, the words scratching in her throat. She took a sip of her drink.

He peered at her closely, taking in the pallor of her skin and the way she hunched into herself. Her grey green eyes were clouded, and were shifting from spot to spot, looking anywhere but at him.

“I know you, don’t I?” He paused, looking her over again “you’re that woman from the news, the one who’s husband-”

Emma shook her head but didn’t reply.

“But you _are_ , aren’t you?!” He pushed again, ignoring her obvious discomfort.

“Leave it” Emma muttered, draining her drink. She nodded to the bartender for another one.

“But I just wanted to ask you, did he really do what they said he did? I mean, did he really-”

“I said _leave it!_ ” Emma stood up and moved over to the edge of the bar, as far away from him as she could get. The bartender, hearing the raised voice, walked over quickly.

“Is this man giving you trouble?” She asked pointedly.  
Emma nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth and speak.

Putting down the glass, she stalked towards the man and pointed to the door “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave” she said grimly, a determined flicker sparking in her eye, daring him to argue back. “we have a zero tolerance policy on harassment, and you’re going to want to leave now, quietly, before I call in security.”

“Look lady, I just-”

“ _Now_.”

He left without another word.

Emma picked up her glass and moved back to her seat. She smiled a hesitant smile at the bartender who returned it before pushing dark curls out of her eyes and turning back to a customer.

\---------- ---------- ----------

Emma stayed until the bar was emptying out again late that night, sipping her drink slowly. She had moved away from the cheap whisky of the early evening, towards something smoother and more expensive.

Finally, she stood up to leave and shrugged on her coat, preparing for the storm still howling outside.  
She got the bartenders attention, not wanting to leave without thanking her for how she had handled the situation earlier. The woman put down the glasses she had been stacking and walked towards her.

“I just wanted to thank you for…well, you know” Emma nodded stiffly. She wasn’t good at this. She should have just left.

“My pleasure” the woman smiled warmly “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble”

“No, it’s fine, I’m…used to it.”

“I see” she pursed her lips “well, if you ever decide to come back here again, just ask for me and I’ll look out for you”

Her eyes were warm, the offer genuine.

 _Leave. Just leave. Walk out that door, don’t answer. Don’t get drawn in_. Her mind screamed at her.  
She forced her lips into a smile, sure it looked more like a grimace than anything else.  
“Thank you. And who should I ask for if I decide to come back?” _Dammit. This wasn't not getting drawn in_. _This wasn't the plan_.

The woman grinned and stuck out her hand “Just ask for Regina. Regina Mills.”

And Emma decided that she would do just that.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably just mention that all my knowledge of police work comes from watching 3 seasons of Brooklyn 99 over the space of about a week.

Emma groaned and opened her eyes, realising that after pressing the snooze button one too many times, she was almost definitely going to be late for work. Again.  
Deciding to forgo a shower in favour of having time to make coffee, she pulled on her jeans, tripping over the legs as she went.  
Next came a sweater, possible the same one as the day before, but who had time to keep track of things like that, and after realising that she didn’t know where her hairbrush was, she ran a hand through tangled hair before shrugging and deeming it good enough.

That was how she made decisions on most things in her life nowadays. So long as it was good enough, it would do.  
Milk in the fridge one day past it’s sell by date? Good enough.  
Worked overtime four days in a row last week and still only ever got put on paperwork? Good enough.  
Haven’t slept properly in months without the help of sleeping pills because you keep going over the turns your life took and you’re not sure where it all went wrong? Good enough.

Emma Swan, one of the most prominent police detectives in the state of New York was a hot mess.

 _What else is new_ , she thought wryly as she jogged down the stairs from her third floor apartment to the street.

Memories of last night assaulted her brain as she walked through the already crowded streets of Manhattan. She remembered a man trying to discuss that thing with her, and then the bartender kicking him out and then she had asked the bartender for her name and... promised to come back another time?! _What the fuck were you thinking, Swan?!_ She berated herself. _You know you can’t go back there. Never go to the same place twice. You know that by now. Just keep moving._

But as she slipped behind her desk and rolled her eyes at the stack of paperwork already waiting for her, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the brown eyes and soft voice of the previous night. Maybe she would go back, just this once.

\---------- ---------- ----------

Across town, Regina Mills stretched out flat on her back and groaned, muscles aching after a combination of a late night shift the day before and her intense daily workout.  
“Why do I keep doing this?” She muttered to herself “I own the bar for god’s sake, why do I still insist on working shifts?!”

But as much as she complained about it, she liked it too much to stop. Although she had owned the bar for as long as she could remember, she enjoyed the human side of working behind it too. She liked meeting new people and hearing their stories, she enjoyed watching them as the night went on. Nothing was more satisfying than seeing the tension leave someone’s shoulders after a few drinks, or hear people spill their souls out to her after the alcohol loosened their tongues. She liked it too much to stop, and that was the truth.

She allowed her mind to wander to the night before and the woman she had met. She had caught her attention almost straight away, something had pulled her eyes towards her no matter how hard she had tried to look away. Maybe it had been the way the woman hunched into herself, looking as though she was trying to remain invisible but at the same time had commanded a presence to the extent that people couldn’t keep their eyes off her.  
Those eyes…they were striking, they pulled you in even when they were hooded and mistrustful darting from side to side, looking everywhere but not really seeing.  
Regina would remember those eyes, even if she never saw the unnamed blonde woman again.  
\---------- ---------- ----------  
After showering and dressing Regina sat down behind her computer, prepared to spend a long day figuring out accounts before heading to the bar. This was the part of her job she hated most, trying to keep everything above the red, trying to make sure that everything added up where it was meant to, and trying her best to keep her head above the water.

But it was getting harder and harder now as the world started evolving faster than she could keep up with and trendier, more exciting bars seemingly appeared every time she blinked.  
But she loved the bar, she loved the faded wood counters and the soft leather, loved the mood and the lighting, the jazz music that played softly as the night wore on, and wouldn’t give up any of it for the world.

She rubbed her head wearily, deciding to check the news first instead. Anything to put off staring at those tiny, dense lines of numbers.

She scanned the headlines, not really taking them in until one in particular caught her attention. Dated with yesterday’s date, it read:

**"HIGH VISIBILITY TRIAL COMES TO A CLOSE, AS KEY SUSPECT TO CENTRAL PARK MURDER IS CHARGED GUILTY”**

Regina clicked on it. Later, she would wonder why she did. She wasn’t the sort of person who enjoyed reading about gruesome murder cases and on any other day she would have scrolled right past it. But for reasons she couldn’t explain, she clicked on it and leant forward to read.

“ _On July 16th 2018 Killian Jones was arrested on suspicion of murdering O.R Gold, a senior lawyer within the state of New York. Gold’s body was discovered on July 14th, towards the edge of Central Park. The murder weapon was determined to be a sharp hook made from an unidentifiable metal. Whilst no witnesses placed Jones at the scene of the crime, his wife stepped forward with the murder weapon which she had found concealed under the floorboards in their apartment._  
After a long, and public trial, during which his former wife (Emma Swan) was a key witness, Jones has been found guilty of first degree murder and has been sentenced to life in jail.  
(Miss Swan did not wish to give a statement at this time)”

 

 _Whew_. Regina whistled softly and closed the tab. That poor woman. She remembered hearing about the case, but hadn’t followed it, the details not intriguing her. But everyone had heard about it, how couldn’t they? Everyone had heard of Gold, he was one of the most ruthless defence lawyers in the state, and his murder had been front page news for a week. Nobody could say they missed him, he had no family and had defended some of the most notorious criminals in court over the past few years, but murder was murder and it had been big news.

She wondered about the wife mentioned in the article. That poor woman. No marriage to a convicted murderer could have ended happily, and to have to be a witness in court against a monster like that, well, Regina didn’t envy her.

“And suddenly being single doesn’t seem so bad” Regina muttered to herself, before sighing and diving into the lines of numbers demanding her attention.  
Maybe if she told herself that enough times she would actually start to believe it.

\---------- ---------- ----------

“Swan.”

Emma looked up from the pile of papers she had been studying and pushed her glasses to the top of her head “huh?”

“Well hello to you too” the man said. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her, ignoring her glare.

Emma rolled her eyes “Mike, what do you want?”

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing, you know, with the trial ending and everything?”

She shrugged, turning back to her paperwork “I’m fine. It’s over. He’s in jail, that’s all there is to it.”

He eyed her sceptically “Riiight. And that’s why you haven’t hung out with the team for months, asked to be put on desk duty only, and won’t look any of us in the eye?”

“Have you ever considered” Emma started, a dangerous glint in her eyes “that maybe I just don’t want to talk to you about it?”

“Wow, ok” Mike stood up theatrically, putting his hands in the air “just remember that if you change your mind, I’m here.”

Emma ignored him.

She’d learnt to stop trusting people who told her they were there for her. Seeing as the last person who said it to her was spending the rest of his miserable life rotting in a jail cell.

 _It’s gonna be a long day_ she thought to herself grimly. _But tonight_ , she decided, _tonight I’ll go back to the bar._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave me a comment below, I love hearing all your thoughts, and thank you so much for the positive feedback on the first chapter, it really keeps me motivated ;) 
> 
> As always, you can find me over on twitter, shouting about all kinds of things on @impsandearps
> 
> Xx


	3. Chapter 3

The numbers on the clock edged tantalisingly towards 5:00 but only seemed to move slower whenever Emma glared at them. The paperwork stacked on the corner of her desk hadn’t lowered in any significant way, her head pounded due to lack of caffeine, and to make matters worse, she could feel Mike eyeing the back of her neck as if to say “I told you so” at her obvious bad mood.

At 4:59 Emma jumped up, pulled on her leather jacket and swung her bag over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes at Mike as she left, knowing she should be grateful for her co-worker’s concern but too tired to analyse why it annoyed her so much.

She walked quickly, dodging through crowds and past well lit restaurants getting ready for the evening rush. She debated going straight to the bar but thought better of it when she remembered she was wearing yesterday’s sweater, hadn’t brushed her hair and distinctly remembered not showering earlier that day. Turning up to a bar still smelling of last night’s whisky was definitely not the way to make a good impression.

Not that she was trying to make any sort of impression. Or so she kept trying to convince herself.

She swung by her apartment, took a quick shower and changed her clothes. Not to anything fancy, Emma was more of a “oh this? Yeah I just threw this on” kind of girl, except in her case she really did just throw it on, sometimes with her eyes closed.

Giving herself a once over and deciding she would do, Emma grabbed her keys, knowing that if she drove to the bar she would stay sober, something she considered healthy to do every so often. Not too often though, that was for people with healthy coping mechanisms and lives which made sense.

\---------- ---------- ----------

Every time the door to the bar swung open, Regina found her head snapping up and her eyes searching out the newcomer. And every time the tall blonde with the darting eyes didn’t walk through the door, Regina found herself feeling a vague jab of disappointment. She wasn’t sure why, she was sure the woman wasn’t going to back after last night. After all, she had no reason to. And yet, for some strange and inexplicable reason, Regina desperately wanted to see her again.

It was ridiculous. It made no sense at all. She didn’t even know the woman’s name.  
 _I’m just lonely_ she thought to herself as she deftly poured a round of shots. _I really need to get out more._  
But with no real friends in the city she called home, saying she needed to get out more was easier said than done.

The bells above the door jangled again, signalling someone’s entry into the bar. Instinctively, Regina glanced up. Her breath caught in her throat as the woman in the doorway looked up and caught her eye. The dim light bounced off her blonde hair, making it shimmer and dance, drawing all the eyes of the sparsely populated space towards her.

Ignoring all of them, the woman headed straight in her direction.  
“Hi” she grinned weakly, uncertainty shifting behind her eyes.  
“You came” Regina breathed, placing the bottle she had been holding down on the side. She waved for someone to take over from her.

She moved across from her side of the bar and pulled out two seats. She motioned for the woman to take one.  
“Are you sure?” the blonde asked “aren’t you in the middle of a shift?”  
Regina laughed “Dear, I own the bar!”  
“You do?! So why do you work here?” Emma asked despite herself, despite knowing that the more she talked, the more she asked this woman, the more she would want to get to know her.

Regina pursed her lips and shook her head “nope.”  
“Nope what?” Emma asked, confused.  
“Nope I’m not answering any more questions until you at least tell me your name. Come on, you can’t really expect to get to know me and then not tell me anything in return?”

Emma shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the request. It made sense, of course it did. That was the problem wasn’t it? She knew that if she came back, if she sought out Regina, she would have to tell her who she was. She would have to give up her name and watch one more person look at her with a mix of uncomfortableness and pity.  
She would have to hear the soft gasp of recognition and then the muffled cough of someone trying to hide their discomfort. She would have to endure the conversation turning awkward as the person searched for an immediate escape route.  
She had been down this road too many times. She was done travelling it. She was done being under the spotlight, being ashamed and held accountable for the actions of another. She was done being instantly recognisable, if not by face than by her name, as the woman who’s husband murdered another in cold daylight. And yet she had come back anyway.

She sighed, realising that Regina was still waiting for an answer.   
“My name’s Emma” she said at last “Emma Swan”

Regina didn’t blink. She didn’t draw back, she didn’t recoil and she didn’t gasp. What she did do, was stick her hand out warmly “well then Emma Swan, it’s nice to meet you. Can I get you a drink?”

Emma simply nodded, too confused by what had just happened to say anything else. Was it possible that Regina really didn’t know who she was? But that was impossible, unless the woman lived under a rock, which she was pretty sure she didn’t, she must have heard her name, even just in passing. She shook her head to herself. Maybe coming back here tonight had been the right choice after all.

\---------- ---------- ----------

As Regina crossed round to the other side of the bar and uncapped a bottle she breathed shakily to herself, her mind racing. She had recognised the name at once, how could she not have? But she had schooled her reaction and made sure her face stayed blank.  
Suddenly, a few things made sense. Like the way Emma seemed to hunch into herself as if she wanted to be invisible, and the way the man had harassed her at the bar last night. And of course, her reluctancy to give her name must have stemmed from the same deep discomfort.

Regina made a snap decision. She wasn’t going to tell Emma that she knew who she was. Something about this woman intrigued her, she felt pulled to her in ways she couldn’t explain. She would be damned if she was going to let anything get in the way of getting to know her.

“So” Regina asked, pushing a glass towards Emma “what is it you do for a living?”  
Emma contemplated the glass before answering, remembering that she had planned to drive back later. Ah, to hell with that. She would drink now and figure out how to get home later.   
“I’m a cop. Well, a detective really, but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. How about you? You said you own the bar. So why do you still work here?”  
Regina took a sip of her own drink “I’m a people person” she answered honestly. “Owning the bar without getting to know the people who come here would be like…owning a museum and never looking at the art.”  
“How so?” Emma asked, leaning forward on her elbows.  
Regina pursed her lips as she thought.  
“Well” she said eventually “how am I meant to know what people want to see in my bar if I don’t ever come here? How do I know which bands to hire, what drinks to advertise, what décor I want, if I don’t get to know the people who drink here? How can I possibly run a business if I don’t understand my clientele?”

Emma tilted her head “I guess that makes sense. I’ve never really thought about it”  
“Well that’s the problem with you cops, isn’t it?” Regina laughed “all action, no thought?”  
“Watch it, or I’ll have you arrested” Emma grinned.  
Regina just sipped her drink and smirked.

The evening grew later as they talked, and after a while they moved away from the bar to a more private booth. Regina used her privileges to borrow a bottle of whisky from the bar, ensuring that they didn’t need to move or break conversation to fill their glasses.

The conversation was easy and fast, there were no awkward pauses or moments when they realised they had nothing to say. It was light, casual, and exactly what Emma needed. She realised she felt lighter than she had in years, and she found herself laughing in a way she never would have thought she could again.

Her life as she knew it had ended that day last year when she found a bloody hook buried under a loose floorboard. The world she had built for herself, as delicate and fragile as she knew it was, had come crashing down around her in a shattering blow she had been sure she could never recover from.

Throughout the trial and the long days of standing in a witness box, Emma had felt like she was merely existing. Her friends had slipped away one by one, and Emma, never good at maintaining the things she cared about, had let it happen. She had no family to speak of, nobody to call after draining days and sleepless nights. She had carried the burden of her ex-husband’s crimes with her alone, for over a year. It was enough to turn anyone into a hollow shell.

But sitting with Regina in the booth of a crowded, warm, bar, Emma realised that she still knew how to smile, to laugh, and eventually, if Regina stuck around, maybe she would even learn how to feel alive again.

\---------- ---------- ----------

  
Regina was laughing at a story Emma was recounting from the early days of her job when a tap on her shoulder jolted her out of it.  
“What is it?” She snapped at the young bartender.

He wrung a cloth between his hands nervously “it’s only that, um, we need to close soon and-”  
Regina cut him off smoothly “sorry Tom, I didn’t realise it was you. Of course, we were just finishing up.”  
He nodded and hurried back to continue wiping down the bar.

Emma tilted her head lazily, watching the lights on the ceiling as the blurred at the edges in a content, slightly drunken blur.   
“Emma?” Regina prompted.  
“Huh?”   
“I was just asking how you’re getting back to your apartment?”  
“Ummm… I drove here”  
“Well you can’t drive back like this.” Regina stated obviously   
Emma rolled her eyes “I’m tipsy, not stupid. _And_ I’m a cop. I’ll walk”  
“At this time?!”  
Emma shrugged.   
“Well let me call you a cab at least, I’ll order you one when I order mine.”  
Emma shook her head stubbornly. Even in her less than sober state she knew she couldn’t do that. That meant telling Regina her address, and telling Regina her address meant that Regina knew where she lived which meant that- well she wasn’t sure what it meant right now but she knew it crossed a bright red line in her head labelled _do not get attached_. Although she was pretty sure she’d crossed that line already.

“I’ll walk.” she repeated stubbornly.  
“Ok” Regina shrugged “suit yourself”  
It wasn’t like she could really insist on anything else, one evening drinking in a booth together didn’t make them friends, it barely made them acquaintances. She couldn’t insist on Emma doing anything, even if she was uncomfortable with letting her walk in the dark alone.

Emma stood up to leave, shrugging her jacket over her shoulders.   
“Thanks, Regina” she nodded at the woman “I had fun tonight.”  
Regina smiled warmly, glad that she had made the right decision earlier and not told Emma that she knew who she was. “Me too” she grinned “can we do it again sometime?”

And Emma, Emma who had locked her heart in an iron chains and refused to let it be touched, didn’t have to think twice before nodding in agreement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please feel free to leave me a comment down below, and you can find me on twitter on @impsandearps!
> 
> Also, what do you reckon, will Regina's decision to not tell Emma that she recognises her from the news impact them well or badly in the long run? Let me know :p


End file.
